I have been moving along a path. Sometimes it twists and turns in unexpected directions. Sometimes I can’t see where it leads. And sometimes I wonder if I’m going in circles.
I occasionally look back, and think about the footsteps I’ve taken. Some of those steps had a huge impact on me. Sometimes I trudged through sand, and, other times, I waded through deep mud. And yet, when I look back, the footprints have faded. I’m not so attached to them anymore.
Now I look at the path ahead. I can see a little way, but it tapers off in the distance and my view gets hazy. I’ll keep going though. I like walking. I like the whistle of the birds, and the rustle of the wind through the leaves. I like feeling the breeze on my face, I like feeling alive. I like to watch nature unfolding, and I like being part of it.
Sometimes I travel alone, if I choose to do so. And those times can be good. But a lot of the time I share the path with wonderful people. I’m grateful to them for their company, and I hope that I’m enriching their journey too.
I can’t wait to see where the path is going to lead next year. Maybe we’ll embark on a completely new direction. Or maybe we’ll take comfort in the ritual of walking in the same footprints of others that we look up to.
I just don’t know.
But I’m looking forward to the walk.